


Solid Air

by Envoy



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Angst, Bath Sex, Crying, Drowning, Holding Grudges, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Crying, M/M, True Love, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:24:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3085340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Envoy/pseuds/Envoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Chibs is a bit of a bastard as per. Occurs post Season Five, in the midst of the melee of betrayal and desperation. Chibs and Juice go from nothing to everything in a bathtub.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solid Air

**Author's Note:**

> Tried really hard to write this in character and make it seem canon, it'd be really good to know if I succeeded! 
> 
> Title after the John Martyn song of the same name.

 

He paced the garage, pinching the bridge of his nose to hold the angry smarting of his eyes at bay. The greying hair he pushed behind his ears was slick with grease and grime and he itched with fatigue. He cursed, stamped, wiped half oily palms down his front, gripped the edge of the table with white knuckled force, but it all got on top of him. Chibs staggered into the open air and took two deep breaths of the dry afternoon then sat on the steps of Teller Morrow with his face in his hands and shook with sobs. All his composure crumbled, just like that, griefs piling down upon him until he had no real clue what he was crying about.

Suddenly there were strong hands on his shoulders, holding him in place.

‘You ok, brother?’

Chibs looked up at him like a drowning man. Would Jax once again pull him from the bodies of the dead, from the wreckage of families, haul him back to normality? Their surroundings had an odd muted hue, as if they weren't really real, and for the first time in god knows how long he felt acutely that he was displaced. Where was it he belonged again? He shook his head despairingly, as if there were no words to explain.

Jax nodded. ‘Juice.’

It wasn’t a question.

Chibs seemed to search inside himself for something. Maybe brutal honesty. When the floodgates had opened they’d dredged up a resistant kernel, a thing buried deep in drifts of silt, lodged uncomfortably now in his ribcage hard and hot like a gallstone. His words were dredged from the same place, thick with emotion.

‘I _really love_ him, Jackie.’ He pinned Jackson with swimming eyes, daring him to see. ‘I don’ know what tae do.’

A slight purse of lips was the only sign that maybe Jax had registered his sergeant’s admission. He took his hands from Chibs’ shoulders, nonetheless, shoved them deep in his pockets while he stepped back and considered.

‘Go. He needs you.’

Some words must have got to Chibs through the fog of his sorrow. He palmed his eyes roughly, took some steadying breaths and nodded.

‘Aye. Mebbe. Thanks, brother.’

 

 

 _And you've been painting the blues_  
_And you've been looking through_             _solid air_

 

 

He cut the engine in Juice’s driveway but remained frozen on his bike for a few minutes in the dusk before dismounting, pulling his gloves from his fingers and rolling his sleeves up to his elbows as he approached the front door. He fished a key from under a plant pot to the left of the porch and discretely let himself in. Juice’s place was cool, dark and quiet, the faint aroma of pot smoke lingering in the air and the woodwork. He stood in the empty kitchen and helped himself to one of Juice’s beers from the fridge, popped the cap and took a slug, listening the clunk of pipes sound out in the silence. The slight tinkle of running water was coming from above. He lost his boots at the bottom of the stairs and ascended quietly, following the chink of light from a door slightly ajar.

Juice was stretched out in the bathtub, all long brown limbs, with his eyes closed and head half under, looking almost peaceful. Chibs knew better. He stood above him for a long minute, an unreadable expression on his face as he scrutinized Juice’s. Then with unnerving speed he sunk his hands in the tub and plunged Juice’s head below the surface, catching his cry in the water before it had time to sound out. His chest leapt up reflexively against Chibs’ pressure even as his mouth filled with water and his eyes tried to open. Hands came up to grip Chibs’ wrists, vice-like, and shoulders flexed under his fingers with all the power of combined strength and panic even as a terrible gargling made it clear water was spilling down his throat. Just gravity and a few seconds advantage tipped the scale, could be the difference between life and death. His whole body thrashed and water poured out down the front of Chibs’ jeans, but he held firm. And he held. And he held. Then he let go.

Juice leapt up retching and gasping and clutching at the sides of the bath. He doubled over, coughing up phlegm and bathwater between long raking intakes of breath. Chibs crouched down beside him and pulled the boy’s body until his arms dangled limply over the side and he spat and retched bile onto the floor. Streaming eyes turned up desperately, bewildered, on Chibs, who looked back with measured composure. There was no fear or anger in Juice, only acceptance and tiredness. Chibs’ hands were trembling slightly. He waited for Juice to regain his composure, to wipe the last string of saliva from his chin. When he was sure he stood again, reached casually across to turn the taps off, and then turned back to pull Juice’s face up to him and pressed their lips hard together.

He straightened, stepped away, as soon as the contact was broken. The taste of toothpaste and acid remained on his mouth.

‘Yeh ok?’

Juice struggled with stunned speechlessness to get out words he had clearly been trying to say before.

‘Chibs, I’m sorry, I-’

‘Don’t.’

Juice's eyes flickered between tracing Chibs steps back across his rug and looking down at himself, naked in the bath. He drew his knees up, suddenly self-conscious. Chibs turned to face him and they stared across at each other in silence. Then he shrugged his cut off his shoulders and dropped it on the floor. Without breaking the stare, he slipped the top button of his jacket open at his neck, and then the next, dirty nailed fingers beginning a slow wander down his chest. Quietness echoed around them, until Juice breathed through the tightness in his throat, barely audible.

‘What are you doing?’

Chibs’ only answer was the hiss of leather as he pulled his belt from its loops to coil, snakelike, at his feet. When his hands went to his fly Juice finally looked away; at his legs, the taps, the opposite wall, anywhere. Chibs stood in the spooled heap of denim, stepped out of his clothes and walked slowly towards him. He perched on the edge of the bath with his back to Juice and exhaled through his teeth, nearly a sigh. Juice hesitated, but reached out to touch his arm, and then he was kissing Chibs back, gentle and urgent, pulling him forward. Chibs fell against him and manoeuvred his legs over the sides of the bath without breaking the kiss but when they touched in the water they both jolted back, awkward, clumsily separating limbs. Chibs moved back against the taps. His beads hung low on his chest, outlining the tattoo that stretched darkly across his sharp collarbones. With slow movements that sloshed the bathwater he spread his legs, trailed one lazy hand between his thighs, and lifted his eyes steadily to pin Juice with an icy and dangerous stare.

‘Fuck me.’

‘What?’

‘I want yeh - _tae fuck me_ ,’ he repeated slowly and clearly.

Juice’s eyes were round dark saucers.

‘ _Juice_.’ The sound of his name pulled Juice from his reverie with a moan. A wry smile ghosted across Chibs’ lips; Juice was an open book. The boy looked like the cat who’d got the cream and didn’t even know he liked cream. _You and me both, kid._

Chibs’ aggression scraped raw on Juice’s nerves as always and laid all his churning emotions bare. He sparkled with delight; Chibs _wanted him_. As if this wasn’t enough to process, there was a tightness in his chest, the odd sinking feeling that if it wasn’t for him this could have happened some other way. But if this was how he wanted it. Water fell off him as he rose to kneel between Chibs’ knees, set his mouth into a hard cold line, readied himself for restraint and violence. Then Chibs smiled and he had him hook line and sinker.

Resolve unravelled and Juice slipped forward in the water, into that slow predatory smirk. Holding Chibs was gentler than he’d ever have imagined. Tentative. Cold soft flesh in the steamy air drawing soft gasps out of him. Chibs jumped and grunted when they made contact; through all his bravado something stunned and desperate. Oh Christ Juice needed this.

Chibs breath was against his ear. ‘Need a little friction, darlin’.’

Juice bit his lip. This would’ve been enough for him, plenty. He tried to stop his thighs trembling against the other man’s skin.

With a languorous delay water slid around their hips, slipping together, easing against him and with him now. Heavy breaths ringing in their ears. Fingers digging at his hips. Warmth crawled up his skin. He wanted Chibs' lips again, his kiss, but knew it would be crossing a line. When Chibs spread a hand against his backside and tugged him close a helpless keening that had been building in his throat burst out - their eyes accidentally met, scorching them both in a tide of something too painful to be pleasure. They were already too lulled and insensible to look away quickly enough. Something had happened to Chibs' face, a softness in his black sharp eyes, and - a word Juice had never associated with this man - he was kind of beautiful.

Chibs slid down and allowed Juice’s body down into the water above him. He gave him a small nod of assent and Juice’s heart hammered in his chest.

Chibs scowled when Juice’s hands found the place and he hadn’t thought he’d wanted to be touched but _shit_.

‘ ‘M no gonnae tell yeh again’ he rasped, voice gone.

So Juice obliged. Chibs blanched, choked, swore. He swallowed a mouthful of water, warm and coppery. The enamel squeaked against his back in protest.

Juice drew back as soon as he felt him shudder, shaking his head.

‘No. Chibs, I can’t hurt you.’

Chibs snarled. ‘Fuckin’ dae it, boy.’

But he wasn’t yet desperate enough to drive back into Juice, just held still, muscles trembling with effort, waiting for him. Juice was careful but Chibs still growled low with pain, collapsed back in the water, gasping a lungful of air. He saw Juice’s wide terrified eyes.

‘S’alright, lad, ah can take it.’ He struggled up against the taps, elbows on the rim, and placed a hand on the side of Juice’s face, tipping it up towards him. ‘Shh, I’ve got yeh. Take yer time Juicy.’ Then he stared deep into him and whispered ‘... I want yeh’ and Juice was completely overwhelmed.

There was no way it would work. There was rough and then there was - this. But Chibs didn’t flinch, just gritted his teeth and Juice thought maybe bit his tongue because there was blood between them. He scraped the base of the tub with his fingernails and swore bloodily between clenched jaws. Juice didn’t think he’d ever wanted anyone so much in his life.

Sounds fell out of Juice that he couldn’t stop. Chibs latched onto these and allowed him to slow the pace, water lapping up over his stomach. Just as he was lost in relishing the pain - almost fucking blinded by it - something good happened and Juice was _perfect_ ; suddenly hungry, greedy, he tried to look up at the amber stretches of his skin but the movements the lad made with his hips were unfocusing Chibs’ eyes. So he just groaned and for the first time held onto Juice, gripping his forearm tightly. He was trying to hold his shit together. He hadn't been prepared for this, he hadn't been fucking prepared.

‘Chibs?’ Juice was breathless. ‘You ok man?’

‘Fuckin’ – uhh. Yeah. Fine.' 

Pain melted into white soft timeless echoes of sensation. Elbows and knees scraping against hard enamel sent little shocks of goodness through the warm watery milieu. Besotted, Juice hesitantly put his hands on his friend’s narrow hips to angle them, which rent a sobbing cry from him followed by a ‘ _Jesus Christ_ ’.

Chibs was _loud_. Juice supposed that shouldn’t come as much of a surprise. The litany of curses melted into long aching moans. He shouted himself hoarse and rattled Juice’s taps and scratched his rings across the white enamel as they displaced water that sloshed against the bathroom floor, insulting and demanding. No chance of forgetting who he was fucking then. No chance of not feeling.

Each string of hair misplaced and dampened to Chibs’ cheeks sent darts of longing through him, but it was Chibs who, intense and worked into a quiet bliss that cut his shouts short, put his hands around the back of Juice’s neck and asked to be held.

‘Closer,’ he slurred, incoherent. Fingers gently caressed the base of Juice’s skull, their stomachs pressed together. ‘Oh, Juice, darlin’...’  

It’s that word, and he’s ashamed, but only a bit - that word in Chibs’ mouth meaning family, that makes him gasp and clutch at him.

His anchor. The most solid, physical presence in Juice’s life. Time fell off, drifted away in cocooning warmth like an opiate haze, all his thoughts and words coming apart and lost, but he was grounded by Chibs’ body. Felt like he’d never lose himself again.

 

 

 _You've been getting too deep_  
_You've been living on              solid air_  
_You've been missing your sleep_  
_And you've been moving through             solid air_

 

 

 

‘Never say yeh’re too old to try new things.’

Chibs lay back in the water and looked lazily up at him. His humour had a hard metallic ring to match the blood between his teeth. They were still glazed and numbed but reality had returned to Juice, as it must. He’d brought his knees back towards his chest even as Chibs sprawled liberally and dangled an arm over the side. The shin that brushed casually against Juice’s was like a knife in his back.

‘It was because the club are gonna kill me, wasn’t it?’ His voice left him cool and low, hollow in his own ears. Chibs took a second but he met his gaze, equally dispassionate.

‘Aye.’ He stood up in front of Juice, utterly unselfconscious as a droplet of water ran down his white flanks just inches from Juice’s face, and stepped out onto the mat.

‘Probably.’

He rolled his shoulders back, bent down with a slight wince to collect his clothes and walked from the room. Juice pulled his knees tighter to him in the tepid spunk filled bath water as his eyes pooled with tears.

He’d forgotten that sex made him weak and unguarded. Minutes passed before he changed his mind, desperately scrambling out of the bath with none of Chibs’ nonchalance and nearly slipping on the wet tiles. He wrapped a towel all around himself, shamed as Adam, and stumbled to the bathroom doorway.

‘ _Chibs._ ’

Chibs turned at the other end of the corridor, chest wet, belt unbuckled, shoving a smoke between his teeth, and then turned his flinty eyes on Juice. Juice opened and closed his mouth like a fish, no idea what to say to stop this man leaving him like _this_ , broken and dripping all over his bathroom floor, and the tears broke free and ran down his face.

‘We’re done here Juice.’

He bit down hard on the plaintive _no_ that welled up in his throat, and nodded. As Chibs passed on the landing Juice’s legs gave way, it was all he could do to stop himself clutching at Chibs’ jeans, and he fell to his knees and wept.

 

 

*

 

**Afterword**

 

 

‘Last person I slept with went out in a body bag.’

‘What’re yeh tryin ta say?’

Chibs surveyed Juice skeptically, or more accurately the shape of him highlighted by a sickly yellow glow through the window, with arms crossed across his chest and eyebrows raised quizzically. Juice had heard him enter the room but didn’t bother turning around, reflected that he really needed to put his front door key somewhere the bastard couldn’t find it in future. He’d managed to crawl into jogging bottoms some hours ago after Chibs left then collapsed on top of the blankets just in time before his vision went all white noise.

‘She blew her brains out all over the carpet. Blood was everywhere, man. I had to- I mean he got _me_ to- ’

He’d started to tremble uncontrollably. Oh shit, the world was spinning again. Couldn’t be fucked to lean over if this nausea amounted to anything, so he made do with turning his head into the pillow. Then Chibs’ hand was on his shoulder, and his voice was warm and soft and close.

‘Ah’m sorry, Juicy.’

Juice shook for his brother’s diplomacy. All the things he swallowed for Juice’s sake were fair, he knew – that it happened to them all, that he should pull himself together. But he couldn’t.

He loved him for it. For what he said. For what he didn’t say.

‘Why did you come back?’

‘Eh, ridin wisnae a’ that comfortable.’

Juice choked bitterly into the pillow, a laugh that became a sob, that shook his chest apart, shook him loose to scatter his pieces wide. He was being pulled back into Chibs’ arms, into the salt and whisky smell of him. Comfortable enough to ride to the nearest bar then. His insides’ urge to expel themselves subsided almost instantaneously. Chibs uncurled his fingers against Juice's chest, open palm resting against his racing heartbeat, steadying his erratic pulse. His chest warm against his back, hot breath ghosting against the back of his neck in that coarse murmur that was only his. Telling him in not so many words that he could believe he might wake up against his brother's heartbeat, if not again, then this time.

‘Shh, don’ talk. I came back.’

 

 

 _I know you. I love you_  
_I can be your friend_  
_I can follow you   anywhere_  
_Even through                 solid air_


End file.
